Luck in Disguise
by Chicleeblair
Summary: She can't believe how lucky she is, but she can't believe that this is luck either. Post Season 6. Mer/Der


Sitting by his bedside when he drifted into sleep once again, Meredith couldn't help thinking that this usually happened the other way around. In the past, she was always the one lying in a hospital bed, with Derek by her side. The only words she could think of to tell him next time he awoke were: "I'm sorry", and not for the myriad things she had to repent that day, but for being the cause of the feeling that his heart as ripped out of his chest while he waited for her to wake up.

"How is he?"

She looked up. Mark was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He looked casual, but she could see the worry in his face.

"All right. He's woken up a few times. Had ice chips. Teddy says Cristina did a good job. How are things at Seattle Pres?"

He stepped into the dimly-lit room, and came over to her, crouching in front of her chair. "Big Grey, you know how rough things were. This guy was ruthless."

"Who else?" she demanded. Fresh tears were welling in her eyes, when she thought she was done with crying. Damned useless hormones.

"Percy's dead."

She nodded once, sharply. The Mercy-Westers had lost two today, mirroring the losses she and her friends had suffered that year.

"And Alex was shot."

Her thoughts were so preoccupied with sympathy for the others that his words almost did not penetrate the fog in her brain. She snapped her head up to meet his eyes when she realized what he had said. "What?"

"He's okay. Lexie and I treated him…. We treated him in a conference room, actually, but his prognosis is good." He reached up, using his thumbs to wipe the tears off of her cheeks. "What a day," he sighed, leaning back on his heels. He looked over at Derek, who was covered with tubes that lead to the machines that surrounded his bed. Automatically she began naming them to herself, documenting their tasks in her head to keep her mind from spinning.

"You're his next of kin. In his file."

"Of course I am; I'm his wife."

Mark's gravelly laugh sounded as though it was forced out of an unwilling throat. "Not him. Alex. Is there anyone you should call?"

She thought back to the brother that had showed up on his doorstep, the sister that heds been supporting with no word to any of them, and the ex-wife who was obliviously doing her residency in a hospital in Tacoma.

"No," she whispered. "Alex wouldn't want me to."

Mark nodded, and stood. "Well. I'm going to go back to Seattle Pres and help with the aftermath. Did you call Carolyn?"

"Mmhmm. He told me to, when he woke up. She's on her way out." She didn't add that she was, in a weird way, looking forward to seeing his mother come in here and take charge, so that there would be someone else who knew what to do. She sure didn't.

A few hours later, Cristina appeared in the doorway. "Hey."

"Hey, you heard about Alex?" she asked, to avoid the awkward moment where Cristina tried to carefully tell her news that she had already been told.

"Yeah."

Meredith nodded, and then looked up at her friend who stood framed by the bright light of the hallway. "Kind of funny isn't it," Cristina murmured. "How this seems to happen once a year. Burke. Your moms and you. Then George and Izzie…."

"I know," Meredith said, leaning over to straighten the blankets over Derek's legs as she thought about it. "But in a way we've gotten luckier. Derek's going to be okay. So's Alex. We lost George, and Izzie in the end…. The other stuff…, well it ruined Derek and I for a long time. But this… we'll get through this. We didn't lose…" she stopped, brought a hand to her mouth. "God, that was going to sound awful…"

"I'll say it." Cristina said, coming over to put a hand on her shoulder. "We didn't lose any of ours."

Meredith nodded, her forehead dropping into her hands. "I feel horrible about the others," she asserted. "But he held a gun up to my best friend and my sister. He shot my husband, my other best friend and he wanted to shoot the love of my mother's life.

"He took the baby, and I can't forget that, but right now I'm counting my blessings because Derek's breathing. Because…. Because in another world I would be alone with that baby, and I wouldn't wish that on a kid."

"You let him turn the gun on you," Cristina responded. "Mer…"

Meredith shook her head. "It's not like the other times, Cristina. I wasn't thrusting my hand in a body cavity or not swimming. I didn't have nothing to live for, I had everything to save."

Cristina looked down at her for a long time, and then gently swiped her hand across Meredith's head. "You grew up, kid." She smiled softly.

"We all did," said, turning to watch Derek as his chest rose and fell with a regularity that seemed God-given. She remembered waking up to him watching her sleep after the ferryboats, and now she understood. The thing was, to her he always seemed like a miracle. She didn't need this to remind her how lucky she was.


End file.
